


beautiful muse

by ksoodomination



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Dancer Kim Jongin | Kai, Jongin’s Birthday Week 2021, M/M, Painter Oh Sehun, Separations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:01:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29694720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ksoodomination/pseuds/ksoodomination
Summary: Sehun had never painted a figure; all heʼd ever painted were abstracts and sceneries.Jongin asked him to paint one someday.And when he finally did, Sehun wasnʼt there to show Jongin the painting by himself.
Relationships: Kim Jongin | Kai/Oh Sehun
Comments: 20
Kudos: 27
Collections: Challenge #14 — We Artist Baby!





	beautiful muse

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not familiar enough with this pairing, but i hope i did them justice!  
> happy birthday, kim kai ♡

One step, two steps, three steps.

Jongin looked around, eyes scanning the secluded alleyway. His hands gripped the small paper tightly, almost desperately as if it were his only lifeline in the cliff of darkness.

Metaphorically, it was.

This was the only hint he had, the only thing Sehun had left for him.

He nervously looked up and down, checking the content of the smudged paper.

If you asked him, in his most honest opinion, this situation was not funny. At all.

This morning, he’d planned to visit Sehun’s house, a few blocks away from his own. It wasn’t a special occasion—the two always loved to spend their weekends with movies and long night talks. And cuddles. And maybe something more.

But the one Jongin loved the most was a certain sight he always found himself lost into—the beautiful sight of Sehun concentrating on his painting. Sehun’s lips would pucker a bit, forming a slight pout. He would furrow his sharp eyebrows out of concentration, causing the middle to slope inwards subconsciously. Not to mention his cute nose would scrunch up prettily. Well, Jongin wouldn’t admit it, but it’s an adorable sight. And the younger’s paintings were always beyond amazing.

_ “Sehunnie.” _

_ “Hm?” _

_ “Why there’s always no humans in your paintings? I mean... you consistently paint abstracts and sceneries— and they’re beautiful, of course. But I’m just… wondering,” Jongin laughed a little. _

_ The painter stared back at him, long enough, until he let out a chuckle and smiled amusedly, “I can’t. I’m bad at figure painting, you know?” _

_ “No waaay, it must be good! I just know it.” _

_ “Maybe one day.” _

_ “You should! And later, when you finally get to open your own art exhibition, they need to be the main portraits!” Jongin exclaimed. _

_ “Sounds like a dream. I don't think it could happen.” _

_ “It surely can. I believe you can.” _

And Jongin meant it with all his heart. He knew Sehun would be a successful painter one day. He had been, but he would be more.

Jongin couldn’t achieve his childhood dream to become a dancer—his parents said it’s useless. That’s why at least… he hoped Sehun could fulfill his dream.

But this morning, his knock was answered with nothing but complete silence.

He thought Sehun was still sleeping at first, for him to call Sehun’s phone to wake him up. Yet, the only voice answering his call was the operator’s.

Call it exaggerating, but Jongin couldn’t help the mounting sense of unease in his throat.

He ended up barging into the house with an extra key.

His hunches proved themselves to be accurate, as Sehunʼs house was oddly bare. Too bare.

The table was clean, his canvas and paint buckets weren’t there, his easel wasn’t where it was supposed to be.

Everything was gone from its place, except the couch where they used to cuddle, the music box Jongin loved to dance to, and every single trace of their memories at Sehunʼs house.

Sehun was nowhere to be found.

And Jongin couldn’t stop his mind from going a mile a minute.

Where’s Sehun? Had he…moved without telling him? Had he done something wrong? Was Sehun...mad at him?

The questions were left unanswered as his eyes caught a small folded paper on top of the nightstand. It was neatly folded, yet there were a few creases at some ends.

Inside, it was Sehunʼs messy handwriting.

_ Jongin, go to the old building near the park where we first met. _

So now Jongin was there, standing in front of the old building. It was secluded, with a lot of turns and buildings besides. He shifted his gaze back to the small paper, concentrating on the instructions written.

_ If you come across a vast tree, go right twice, then turn left once. That’s where you’ll find it. _

...Find what? What was Sehun trying to show him?

But he strolled around anyway, letting his feet take the lead.

Turn right, and again.

And now, turn left.

The sight he encountered was what he never thought he could ever dream of.

There was a massive mural on the wall, standing out with every meticulous detail. It was painted in various colors, highlighting every feature of the portrait.

It was a portrait of a man dancing gracefully with eyes closed. His hands dangled towards the sky, depicting an angel immersed in his prance. The dancer almost came alive—the painting looked alive. It was… beautiful. So beautiful.

It was a painting of Jongin.

Slowly, he took a step closer, hand touching the wall carefully. His stomach churned, overwhelmed by indescribable emotions.

Was this Sehun’s painting? Did he… paint him? ...Why?

No, not that he didn’t like the mural. He loved it. A lot. He always loved every single artwork Sehun painted, after all.

But before he knew it... Jongin felt a lone tear escaping his eyes.

No, no. He shouldn’t cry. Not when Sehun was nowhere to be found. He should be angry. Sehun didn’t tell him anything. If Sehun thought this was a funny thing to do, Jongin would’ve shown it was obviously not.

But he couldn’t stop the tear from drawing more liquids from falling from his eyes. 

Slowly, he crouched down, sobbing a little.

But it seemed his sobs would get even harder as the small paper he was holding fell, revealing another sheet tucked loosely behind the front piece with the same familiar handwriting.

_ Jongin, _

_ I’m sorry. I wish I were there to show you the painting by myself.  _

_ But I need to go… My parents called me back. They want me to continue their company. _

_ And I’m sorry for not saying goodbye… I couldn’t bring myself to tell you directly. That way, I won’t be able to stop myself from hugging you, from not leaving you… _

_ Please achieve your dream. Please keep dancing. I’ve been your audience, and I will always be. _

_ Goodbye, Jongin. _

_ I finally painted a figure. I painted you—the most beautiful human. _


End file.
